


You'll Make It

by art3misthehuntress



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Christmas fic, Give Tyler good things 2k17, I actually forgot I wrote this, Regal and Bloom are only mentioned, Very brief very implied Tyler Breeze/Fandango, deus ex machinas abound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 12:51:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9386042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/art3misthehuntress/pseuds/art3misthehuntress
Summary: The NXT family has been doing the same holiday tradition for a while now, quietly and without ever really talking about it. Even though Tyler Breeze has been busy looking for opportunity on the main roster, he still finds time to make it down to Florida every December to participate.





	

The WWE performance center was not the most decorated nor the most festive building in sight. Seeing as Orlando only got snow once in a blue moon, the city’s residents often invested in elaborate decorations to compensate for the lack of a wintery atmosphere. One could easily find several inflatable Santa Clauses not in a red and white coat carrying a sack full of toys, but instead wearing a hawaiian shirt drinking a martini accompanied by an elf or two in sunglasses.

A simple wreath with a large crimson bow adorned the back door of the center as Tyler Breeze used his key to enter the familiar complex, a particular destination (and the only reason he was there) in mind.

Inside it was several degrees cooler without the Florida sun beaming down, unrelenting even at the tail end of December. Tyler had to fumble for a lightswitch, finally finding it and bathing the hallway in a warm glow. Christmas was one of the rare few days of the year that the center was technically closed to both performers and trainees, but Matt Bloom had given him a key for whenever he wanted “to drop by if SmackDown was in the area.” Tyler had accepted the key with a roll of his eyes, but he had appreciated the gesture nonetheless. He really should try to stop in more often.

  
Without the constant clamour of weight machines in use or people practicing their ring work, the performance center felt strange and lifeless, the hum of an air conditioning unit the only noise in an otherwise still environment.

  
Tyler passed the gym he had often woken up at dawn to workout in, jacking the volume on his iPod up and pushing himself each and every day to reach Regal and Matt’s expectations. Most days he had been the first through the doors and the last to leave, only caffeine and the dream of becoming a WWE superstar keeping him on his feet.

  
The ring was located in the largest part of the performance center; the heart of the whole place, where you either made it or were sent home. It sorted those who really wanted it from those who only thought they did. One of the things Tyler had had to do upon arriving at the performance center for the first time with the other trainees was to take a hundred back bumps on the canvas, which seemed simple until at a quarter of the way there it became uncomfortable. At fifty, it started to become painful. At ninety, he wanted to question his choice in career.

  
However, one of the higher ups must have seen some potential in him because while most of the others were dismissed, he was whisked away to the real test, developmental. At least, Tyler hoped that had been the case and he hadn’t been taken on simply to fill out the roster at some point like he seemed to be doing on SmackDown now, relegated to the bottom of the card.

  
A few chairs were scattered in the far corner of the room for those who needed to grab a drink after a particularly grueling session of training. Beside them was a large corkwood board containing that week’s schedule and specific workout regimens as well as a few cliché motivational posters, proudly proclaiming that “dreams don’t work unless you do” and “nothing worth having comes easy.” Absolutely dominating the board though, was a large array of envelopes arranged in several rows and pinned neatly in place.

  
Every year during his time in developmental, Tyler had seen Bloom come into the center about a week or two into December discreetly carrying a small box from Hallmark. The envelopes (containing a single Christmas card) would be up on the board shortly after, the name of whoever was to receive it prominently written on the outside. From that point forward, everyone could write thoughtful messages or words of encouragement in each other’s cards up until the holidays were over and they’d either be taken home or mailed out if the recipient wasn’t in Florida. And because even those who were moved up to the main roster were still assigned an envelope every year, the amount of available room on the corkboard was slowly decreasing and becoming nonexistent. The tradition was something the NXT family could still call their own, something special that couldn’t be taken by a draft or a brand split.

  
Pulling out a pen he had brought with him, Tyler scanned the board for a few names in particular, unpinning Finn and Summer Rae’s envelopes and adding his own “get well soon” to the dozens of other “heal up quickly” and “I hope you’re doing okay”s squeezed inside their cards. He wrote a few more messages, congratulating Becky, Alexa, Charlotte, Sasha, and Kevin on their title wins and including something more heartfelt in Fandango’s.

  
Eventually, he scanned the board again, satisfied that he had hit most of the people’s cards he wanted to this year. He unpinned his own envelope (technically breaking the rules since it wasn’t after Christmas but oh well) and pulled out the card, which had a picture of a black and white dog in a santa hat on the front.

  
Most of what was written inside was to be expected, a “Merry Christmas!!! :D” from Sami (who literally wrote in everybody’s card, regardless if he knew them or not), “Stay gorgeous, Breezy” from Summer, and a few quiet words of encouragement from other members of developmental, both current and former, wishing him luck on SmackDown.

  
Tyler’s eye was drawn to two messages in particular. One, in tightly written, elegant cursive said simply “you never did let me down, sunshine.” The other, in much more messy handwriting, was longer and crammed for lack of space near the bottom. “I know you’re frustrated, kid” it said, “and you’re not where you want to be right now on the main roster. But you’ve got heart, and I’ve seen that you have what it takes. Keep working at it, and you’ll make it. We’re all rooting for you.”

  
_You’ll make it_. Tyler clutched the envelope tightly. It was what he had told himself after his initial impact on NXT fizzled out and he seemed stuck in the midcard. He was still telling himself that after being called up to SmackDown and things had unfortunately stayed the same. And yet…

  
His fellow NXT colleagues had his back. Bloom and Regal were still watching him, and even now they thought he had greater potential; they cared even though he was no longer under theirs.

  
Finding Regal and Bloom’s envelopes almost hidden in a corner of the board, Tyler pulled out their respective cards, grinning as he saw them absolutely covered in personal messages. He wrote a brief thanks, signed them both, and pinned the envelopes back on the board before flipping the lights off in the performance center and braving the Orlando sun again.

  
_You’ll make it_.


End file.
